Golden Griffin
by The.Dragon.Singer
Summary: Lysandra isn't anything like her family, the Malfoys. She doesn't like You-Know-Who, she's not a Slytherin, and she talks to Mudbloods. She's not blond, she likes redheads, and she doesn't abuse any power that she has. Sometimes, she wonders if she was even put in the right House... George/OC/Fred, Slight AU
1. Chapter 1

On the Twenty-Sixth of July, two tawny coloured owls flew through the open dining room window of the Malfoy Manor.

There were two children sitting at the table, eating hash and sausages, both with pointed faces and pale skin. One was a boy with slicked back blond hair and grey eyes, dressed in a pair of pressed black slacks and a green button up.

The second child was a girl, with long black hair tied into a ponytail with a white ribbon. She was dressed in what could be described as a doll's dress, the fabric black and silver. Her eyes were steely grey, and seemed to hold secrets.

"Look, Draco!" The girl was the first one to notice the two owls sitting at the edge of the table, each with a letter attached to their legs. "Owls!"

"There is nothing grand about owls, Lizzie." Draco sniffed, but his eyes were focused on the owls as well.

"They probably have our Hogwarts letters!" She pouted, reaching for the owl closest to her. She fed him a piece of sausage and untied the letter.

On the front of the letter in green ink, was the address, penned in neat cursive.

_Miss L. Malfoy_

_The Malfoy Manor_

_Wiltshire, England_

The girl wasted no time in ripping open her letter, smiling all the while. Draco reached for his own letter, and the two children didn't take long to read through them.

"Good morning, Draco." A woman entered the dining room, body clothed in an expensive dress, and her long blond hair in a tight bun. Diamond earrings hung from her ears. "Good morning, Lysandra."

"Morning, Mother!" Lysandra slid from her chair and offered her letter. "We got our Hogwarts letters this morning."

"I see. Your father will take you on the Thirty-First."

* * *

Lysandra glanced over her shoulder as the bell over the door at Madame Malkin's rang, admitting a nervous looking boy with messy black hair and round glasses.

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madame Malkin asked, her entire squat body lighting up as she smiled. "Got a the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact. Him and his twin sister."

She pulled the raven-haired boy onto the stool on the opposite side of Draco's, and the witch pinning up Lysandra's robe vanished into the back for something.

"Hullo," Draco looked over. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes." said the other boy.

"Our father's next door buying our books and our mother's up the street looking at the wands." Draco drawled, boredom in his tone. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why First Years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"If you bullied Father into getting one, he'd have to get me one too." Lysandra reminded her twin with a scowl. "Besides, Professor Dumbledore would know if you brought one to school. I say it's not worth the effort when you can get one next year."

"Have _you_ got a broom?" Draco continued talking to the boy. Lysandra pouted, sticking her tongue out at his head. The boy held in a laugh.

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No."

"_I _do. So does, Lysandra. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?" Draco lifted an eyebrow and shot a glare at the witch who'd accidentally stabbed him with a pin. Lysandra's witch returned with a small box, and went back to what she was doing.

"No." The glasses wearing boy shook his head.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family has been." Draco looked at his sister with a smirk. "Lizzie will probably get into Ravenclaw if she doesn't get Slytherin."

"I'm not that smart." Lysandra scowled, blushing slightly. "And you're _bragging_. Mother said it's not-"

"I say, look at that man!" Draco interrupted his sister and nodded to the large man in the window, holding two ice creams.

"That's Hagrid." The boy informed. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?" Draco sneered, looking at the man in disdain.

"He's the _gamekeeper._"

Lysandra scowled at her brother as the witch let her off the stool and handed over the three plain black robes for school. She continued watching her brother and the boy as they talked.

"_Do _you?" Draco said with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are you parents?"

"They're dead." Lysandra's scowl deepened and she whacked her twin over the head.

"That was rude."

"Oh, sorry. But they were _our _kind, weren't they?" Draco shot his sister a glare and they had a short glaring match.

"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean." The raven-haired boy frowned at Draco.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

"That's you done, my dear." Madame Malkin interrupted before the boy could answer. It wasn't long before he left with Hagrid and Draco was left with his livid sister.

"Draco! How rude can you get!?" Lysandra hissed, digging her nails into his arm. "Mother told us to be polite to the children our age."

"I _was _polite." Draco sniffed, gathering his robes and placing the exact amount of Galleons down on the counter before they left, heading for Flourish and Blotts. "He was the one being rude. Yes, no, yes no. Mmm."

"You're done getting your robes then?" Lucious appeared before them, tucking their shrunken books into one of his robe's pockets. "Let's meet your mother at Ollivander's."

"Yes, Father."

On their way to Ollivander's, Narcissa Malfoy caught up with them.

"Lucious, darling," She gave a small smile to her husband. "I was passing the Menagerie, and I simply must take Lysandra in there before we buy her a wand. Shall we meet you at Ollivander's?"

"Very well." Lucious glanced down at Draco, and then set off down the Alley. "Come Draco."

"Yes, Father."

Narcissa turned to her daughter, who was looking at her with a quizzical look in her grey eyes.

"Come along, Lysandra. We'll stop at Madam Pimpernelle's first."

"Yes, Mother."

* * *

When Lysandra and Draco saw each other again, it was at dinner. The two Malfoy males had gotten tired of waiting for their female counterparts, so they'd returned back to the Manor laden only with school essentials. Lysandra and Narcissa had returned several hours after them with arms filled with bags of dress robes, shoes, and beauty products.

"What is that?" Draco pointed to the ball of fur on his twin's shoulder, while they waited for the house elves to bring dinner.

Lysandra blinked at him and then grinned as the ball of fluff mewed. "That's Blizzard. He's my kitten."

"Narcissa..." Lucious gave his wife a _look. _"A kitten?"

"He's a Turkish Angora, Father. A purebred. And he took a liking to me!" Lysandra pouted, pulling the 'innocent child' look.

"Don't worry about it, darling." Narcissa pat her husbands hand. "Blizzard will be going with Lysandra to Hogwarts. You remember my cat back in our time there, Cinder? He was my confident. Cats are quite useful to us women."

Lucious sighed.

"Dinner, Master Malfoy, sir." One of the Malfoy house elves appeared in the doorway. "Dobby came to let you know Dobby and Hilroy are bringing it up."

"Thank you, Dobby!" Lysandra grinned at the house elf.

"Lysandra, do not thank the elves. They're servants, not equals. How many times must we tell you?" Narcissa growled.

"Yes, Mother."

"You are welcome, Little Miss." Dobby murmured as he brought in dinner.

* * *

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was one of the busiest places Lysandra had ever been to, even with a good half-hour before the train left to Hogwarts.

Both Narcissa and Lucious had come to see their children off, and they'd met up with Draco's friend's parents, Mister Crabbe and Missus Goyle. Pansy Parkinson's parents were there as well, carrying her trunk and her owl between them.

Lysandra thought Pansy looked a bit like a pug.

"Lizzie!" Pansy squealed, almost leaping onto the Malfoy girl. Had her black bob been cut any shorter, Lysandra was pretty sure that it would have cut her. "I haven't seen you all summer! What House do you think you'll be in?!"

"I don't know, Pansy. We never know until we get there."

"Lysandra," Narcissa placed a hand down on her daughter's shoulder. "You had better get a compartment. Write me in a few days."

"Alright, Mother." Lysandra smiled, and hurried onto the gleaming crimson train. She wandered down the hall a few moments, before a large crowd stopped her.

"What's going on?" She asked a girl, who by her height, must have been a third year.

"Lee Jordan has a giant tarantula!" She grinned down at the raven haired girl. "It's bloody neat!"

"A tarantula? Who's Lee Jordan?" Lysandra tugged on her tall ponytail nervously. The poor Malfoy girl was not only the black sheep of the family, but she hadn't been very good at meeting people, ever.

"Lee's a third year, in Gryffindor. I'm Eloise." The blond girl offered her hand. "I'm a Hufflepuff. Who're you?"

"My name's Lysandra." She offered her hand.

"There you are. Hurry up, Lizzie. We're all sitting together in a compartment by the prefects." Draco drawled, appearing from behind her. "Don't fraternize with the other Houses. You'll be in Slytherin, like all the Malfoy's before us have been."

"You don't know that, Draco. I could be in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. You said it yourself that I could be." Lysandra scowled at her older twin as he grabbed her arm and dragged her away. "And I wanted to see the giant tarantula."

"It's just an abnormally large spider." Draco sniffed. "And your furball is hissing at Crabbe and Goyle."

"Blizzard didn't do anything!" She rushed into the compartment and grabbed up her kitten, who sported two spots of purple and blue on his sides. "Don't touch my kitten, you big brutes!"

Crabbe and Goyle grunted, tucking their wands away.

"I'm not talking to any of you for the rest of the train ride!" Lysandra muttered, tucking herself into the corner of the seat with her cat and a book.

"Nerd." Goyle growled.

"Arse."

* * *

Lysandra's silence didn't last long. Two sixth year Slytherins had strode past, talking about the famous Harry Potter.

"-Harry Potter's on the train."

"What's this?" Draco picked himself up. "Harry Potter. I think we should do some investigating. Are you coming, Lizzie?"

"I suppose." The raven-haired Malfoy placed her kitten on her shoulder before following Draco, Crabbe and Goyle down the train.

They slid open a compartment about half-way down the train, and stopped.

"Is it true?" Draco asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes." A voice came floating out of the compartment, and Lizzie, who was tucked behind the three boys, vaguely recognized it as the boy in Madame Malkin's.

"Oh. This is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

There was a slight cough from within, and Lizzie wondered if there was another first year sitting with Harry.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children then they can afford."

"Draco! That's rude!" Lizzie hissed, prodding her brother's shoulder.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." The blond boy extended his hand.

"I think I can tell who the wring sort are for myself, thanks."

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you."

"Say that again." The Weasley boy growled.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Draco sneered.

"Unless you get out now." said Harry.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

"Draco Lucious Malfoy! That is quite enough!" Lysandra snarled, grabbing her brother by his ear. Draco yelped. "Think of what Father or Mother would say if they saw you behaving like this. You should be ashamed. Apologize, right now!"

"Lemme go, Lizzie!" Draco whimpered, his pale grey eyes filling with tears. "That hurts!"

"_Draco_."

"Alright! Alright! Lemme go first!" He pleaded, and Lysandra let go of her brother's ear. "You sound so much like Mother some times."

"Apologize to Harry and Mister Weasley." She pointed into the compartment. "You too, Crabbe, Goyle. _ Gregory Goyle!"_

Goyle, who'd been the process of reaching for one of the Chocolate Frogs on the seat, jumped back, waving his hand in the air.

A rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle. Crabbe and Draco backed away as Goyle swung him round and round, howling, until Lizzie punched him in the back of his head. The burly boy stopped moving, and Lizzie grabbed the poor rat in her hands, leaning down to look it in the eyes.

"If you don't let go, I'll sick my cat on you." She hissed, and the rat opened his jaw, and promptly went back to sleep. Lizzie turned to the redheaded boy. "This is yours, I think."

"Thanks."

"What _has _been going on?" A bushy haired girl appeared behind Lizzie.

"Did you knock him out?" The Weasley boy asked. "No -I don't believe it- he's gone back to sleep."

"I'm sorry about my brother." Lysandra stood awkwardly in the doorway. "He's a real pain in the arse sometimes."

"That's your brother!?" The redhead stared, and then his eyes narrowed.

Lysandra nodded. "I'm Lysandra, Lysandra Malfoy. The blond git is my older twin brother. I'm sorry about him bugging you."

And then she left.

* * *

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry? C'mon, follow me -any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years follow me!"

Lysandra slipped down what seemed to be a steep path, and she didn't bother to catch her brother on his way down. After the Harry Compartment Incident, she'd taken to ignoring him again.

It was dark, so they couldn't see very well, and nobody spoke save for the quiet "Ouch" when somebody kicked another person, and then a hushed "Sorry".

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec'." Hagrid called from the front of the group. "Jus' round this bend here."

"Ooooh!"

The narrow path they'd been walking on opened suddenly on the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, it's windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. It's lights reflected off the water, and Lysandra desperately wanted the sketch book she'd packed in her trunk, which was still on the train.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a small fleet of rowboats with no oars. Lysandra climbed into a boat with a pink-faced girl with blond pigtails, a sandy blond boy with sparkling blue eyes, and another boy with dark brown hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

"Everyone in? Right then- FORWARD!"

The boats all lurched forward, before smoothly gliding over the water. The lake was smooth as glass. Each new first year was silent, gazing up at the castle as it towered over them. The cliff it sat on loomed closer, and Hagrid suddenly yelled, "Heads down!"

There was a flurry of movement, and Lysandra found herself with her head pressed quite close to the girl with pigtails. The boats carried them under a curtain of ivy, which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to take them right under the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where all the first years clambered out onto the rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" A pudgy boy cried, holding out his hands. Hagrid led them up a passageway in the rock, and they emerged onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. The gamekeeper led them up a short flight of stairs to the grand oak doors.

"Everyone here?" He asked. "You there, still got yer toad?"

And then he knocked three times on the castle door. It swung open at once.

A tall, black-haired witch in emerald robes stood there. She had a very stern face, and Lysandra knew her immediately as Professor McGonagall.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid smiled.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She nodded, and pulled the door wide.

The entrance hall was so big, Lysandra was sure that one of the Muggle houses down the road could fit there and still have room left. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to see, and the magnificent marble staircase facing them probably led to the upper levels.

The first years followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Voices droned from the doors to the right, which was where the rest of the school must be seated. However, the Professor gestured them into a crowded chamber off the hall. They all squeezed in, standing closer together then they usually would have done, peering around at each other nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be Sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory and spend free time with the rest of your House in your House common-room."

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of your will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered on Toad-Boy's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and the smudge on the Weasley's nose. "I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

There were quiet whispers among the new students and Draco suddenly appeared before his sister.

"Can you help me straighten my robes, Lizzie?" He asked. "And Crabbe's and Goyles?"

"Fine. But only because we can't have you looking foolish in front of all of Hogwarts on your first day." Lysandra grumbled, straightening his collar and then plucking several leaves from Draco's slicked back hair. "Fix your friends yourself though, or ask Pansy."

Several screams rang through the room, and Lizzie glanced over.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost...I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wear a ruff and tights suddenly noticed the first years.

"New students!" The Fat Friar smiled, looking around. "About to be Sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff. My old House, you know!"

"Move along now." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated through the wall. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now, form a line and follow me."

Lysandra tucked herself behind the girl with blond pigtails and a boy with very short brown hair. The line strode back out the chamber, across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

She'd heard about the Great Hall from her parents, but their descriptions did it no justice. The Hall was lit by thousands upon thousands of candles, which floated in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. The tables were set with golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table, where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up to that table, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone like misty silver. Above the tables was a velvety black ceiling, dotted with stars. It was bewitched to look like the sky outside, but Lysandra didn't know how it was done.

The raven focused her gaze back on Professor McGonagall, who was silently placing a four-legged stool in front of the first years. Atop it, she placed a worn, frayed and dirty wizards hat.

The Great Hall was silent a moment, before the rip along the brim of the Hat opened.

_'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your headmaster_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell your_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The Hall erupted in applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and fell still again.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted." McGonagall held up a scroll of parchment. "Abbot, Hannah!"

The girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of the line, pulled on the hat, which fell over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down. The Fat Friar waved merrily at the girl.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time, and several of the Ravenclaws stood to shake Terry's hand.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The table on the far left exploded into cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLTYHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchly, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Longbottom, Neville!" Neville's Sorting took a little longer than most and by the time the Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville looked ready to hurl. He actually ran off with the Sorting Hat and had to jog it back for the next boy.

"MacDougal, Morag."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Malfoy, Draco!" Lysandra watched as her brother swaggered forward. The Hat had barely touched his head when-

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Malfoy, Lysandra." The raven haired girl took a deep breath and strode to the Sorting Hat. Lizzie got a look at the curious faces of Hogwarts before she was engulfed in the blackness of the Hat.

'_Another Malfoy, hm? I remember Sorting your father. And obvious Slytherin, much like your brother, mother and most of the Blacks. But you...Oh, you're not a Slytherin. Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw would be good choices...But, I think I'm going to put you in..._'

"GRYFFINDOR!" The table to the far left cheered again, as they had been doing for the other first years. Lysandra placed the Hat carefully back onto the stool and hurried over to the Gryffindor table, where she slid in next to one of the Prefects, another Weasley, judging by his red hair.

There weren't many people left now, and one of them was Harry Potter and the rat-owning Weasley boy. Seven people were called before finally-

"Potter, Harry!"

The Great Hall erupted into whispers. Lysandra poked Neville, who looked up from staring at his plate.

"I'll bet you five Galleons that Harry Potter is a Gryffindor." She grinned, holding out her hand. Neville thought a moment.

"A-alright." He reached across the table and they shook hands.

"What's this?" The Weasley twins leaned over the table to look at the two first years. "Gambling without including Gred and Forge?! That right there isn't allowed, mate!"

"Alright then. Five Galleons says Harry Potter is a Gryffindor." Lysandra held her hand down the table and the twins shook. The Prefect glared at the four of them. "Do you want in too?"

"I'll over look the gambling, just this once." He muttered and then focused his eyes back on Harry.

The Sorting Hat opened the brim that made it's mouth and yelled, "_GRYFFINDOR_!"

Their table exploded into loud cheers.

"We got Potter! We got Potter! We got Potter!" The Weasley twins stood and danced on the spot. The prefect stood and extended his hand to the still shaky boy, but there were three students left.

"Turpin, Lisa." was sorted into "RAVENCLAW!"

"Weasley, Ronald!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Zabini, Blaise." became a Slytherin, and the Sorting Hat was put away. Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming at all his students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," He said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And, here there are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

Everybody clapped and cheered as the golden plates filled with food. Lysandra's eyes lit up and she dumped as much as she could onto her plate, nearly as much as Ron, before shoving it all into her mouth. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and she'd been sleeping when the trolley lady on the train went by.

Once everyone had eaten their fill of dinner, the plates all wiped clean, and desserts appeared. Lysandra nearly died and went to dessert heaven.

* * *

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please, _

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees, _

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing, _

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

"Ah, music!" Dumbledore wiped his eyes, whether from laughter or because he actually liked the school song, Lysandra didn't know. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime! Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed the Prefect Lysandra sat beside, Percy, through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. They kept on climbing. Percy led them through several doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and then they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks were floating in mid-air ahead of them, and as Percy took a step towards them , they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," He whispered to the first years. "A Poltergeist. Peeves, show yourself!"

A rude noise, like the air being let out of a balloon answered.

"Do you _want _me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop and a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ooooh! Ickle Firsties! What fun~!" He cackled.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked, ducking as Peeves swooped at them. Peeves blew a raspberry, dropped the walking sticks on Nevilles head and flew off down the corridor. "You want to watch out for Peeves. The Bloody Baron is the only one who can control him. He won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" She lifted an eyebrow.

"Caput Draconis." At Percy's words, the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it, and found themselves in the Gryffindor common-room; a cosy, round room full of squash armchairs.

The walls were painted deep red, and the floors were dark wood, with a large red rug, which filled most of the room. It was bordered in gold, and a banner hung on the wall, depicting a lion, who was currently sleeping.

"Girls dorms are up the left stairs, and boys are to the right."

Lysandra was one of the first up the spiral stairs, hurrying down the hall until she found a door with a plaque that read '_First Years'. _When she swung open the door, Lysandra was met with a square room holding four four-poster beds hung with deep-red velvet curtains. Upon stepping into the room, and searching for her trunk, Lysandra discovered that her bed was placed up against the wall in a rather large nook.

The nook was perhaps five paces from the side of the bed to the main room, and only as wide as the bed. Her trunk was placed at the foot, to the side, and a bedside table sat across from it. She had her own window, which had a very nice view of the lake. Blizzard was curled on one of her pillows.

The sound of the door opening and closing brought Lysandra to the edge of her little area, and she peered around the wall. The other four girls had just come in; Brown, Granger, and the Patil twins.

"Hi." Lysandra muttered as Hermione Granger strode to the bed nearest her corner.

The bushy haired girl jumped, and blinked her wide eyes. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."

She stuck out her hand.

"Lysandra Malfoy."

"A Malfoy?" Lavender Brown strode forward, a haughty expression on her face. "What's a Malfoy doing in Gryffindor? All the Malfoy's are a load of arse-kissing purebloods snakes."

"I'm different."

"Like hell. Leave the Malfoy alone, Granger. She won't associate with Muggleborns." Lavender tossed her sheet of chocolate hair over her shoulder and strode back to the other side of the room, where she began rummaging in her trunk for her pajamas. The Patil twins were already in bed, facing the door to the room and their curtains half-pulled around their beds.

"I'll decide for myself who I want to be friends with, Lavender." Hermione grumbled under her breath, and wiggled her fingers in Lysandra's direction. The raven smiled slightly, and placed her hand into the young witch's.

"It's nice to meet you, Hermione."

"You as well, Lysandra."

The two girls stood in awkward silence for a while, shifting on their feet, before Lysandra edged into her nook.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Shut up!"

* * *

**Anything you recognized belongs to Rowling. **

**I own only Lysandra Malfoy, and her cat, Blizzard.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Dearest Mother, _

_I know you have expected a letter sooner, but I've been rather caught up in starting my classes. At the moment, I'm enjoying Charms and Potions with Professor Snape is not too bad. _

_However, if my dear brother hasn't already told you, I was not Sorted into Slytherin. In fact, I was Sorted into the complete opposite, Gryffindor, House of the Brave, Daring, and Courageous. I suppose it's not all that bad here, and it means that I'm simply more brave than cunning, like the rest of the Malfoy's. _

_It's rather disappointing that I am the Black Sheep of the family, and I only hope that this will not affect any of our relationships at the Manor. _

_Oh! And the famous Harry Potter is currently in Hogwarts, in my House, no less. He's rather scrawny, and Potter doesn't look anything like I thought he would. He wears glass, and his hair is always untidy._

_Other than that, Mother, I'm quite excited for our first flying lesson, though both Draco and I won't need it. I do wish that First Years were allowed their own brooms, but I shall simply have to wait until next year. I'm looking forward to playing on the Quidditch team, if I even make it through tryouts. I still have to wait another year, but I shall practice quite hard during the summer. _

_I haven't really taken an interest in anyone. I have no friends here, as everyone seems to avoid me. In fact, the best I can do is a Muggle-born girl. She's quite intelligent, and can hold a conversation when I'm bored. The blood-traitor, Percy Weasley, can also hold a decent conversation, but he also avoids me and is quick to reprimand. Not that I do anything wrong!_

_I usually complete all my homework the day it is assigned, and my marks are quite high. I think, sometimes, that I should have been put in Ravenclaw. The Sorting Hat did say it was a good choice. _

_I hope I haven't disappointed you, Mother, and I shall write again soon. I look forward to a return letter._

_Your daughter, _

_Lysandra S. Malfoy_

* * *

On Friday, the first years had double Potions with the Slytherins. While Professor Severus Snape was not her favourite teacher, he was a reasonable man so long as she didn't draw attention to herself.

Potions lessons were held down in one of the dungeons. It was colder down there than in the main castle, and it wouldn't have been so miserable if it weren't for the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. That made it quite creepy.

Snape started the class off by taking register, and he paused at Harry Potter.

"Ah, yes." He murmured, dark eyes lifting from the scroll of parchment. "Harry Potter. Our new..._celebrity._"

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind their hands, and Snape continued calling out names. When he had finished, he looked up at the class. His eyes were very dark black, cold, empty, and they made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He began in a harsh tone, barely above a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Lysandra glanced at Hermione, who sat rigidly on the edge of her seat, eyes fixed on the Head of Slytherin House.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Lysandra's quill moved against her parchment, swiftly writing out the question and what she knew was the answer below it, before looking up again. Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir." Harry responded.

"Tut tut. Fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as as into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Draco and his goons were shaking with laughter now.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape sneered. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry said quietly, as Hermione stood from her seat. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

"Sit down." Snape snapped at Hermione. "Miss Malfoy,"

Lysandra jumped, and sat straighter in her desk.

"While I was hoping to have the pleasure of having you in my House, along with your twin, perhaps you can tell me the answer to all three of my questions? Stand up."

Lysandra took a deep breath, and pushed herself up, flinging her black braid over her shoulder.

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion, that is so powerful, it's known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat. It will save you from most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. It also goes by the name aconite."

"Why aren't you copying that down?" Snape glared at the rest of the glass. "Five points to Gryffindor, and three taken from Gryffindor for Mister Potter's cheek."

For Harry, the lesson didn't improve in the slightest. Snape put them into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around the room in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone but the Malfoy twins, who'd he paired together, because he seemed to like them, despite Lysandra's obvious House difference.

He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a hissing sound filled the room. Neville Longbottom had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class were standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang to life all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, clearing away the potion with a wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing." Seamus ushered the pudgy boy covered in boils out of the room. "You, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? Five points from Gryffindor!"

Harry looked about to retort when his redhead friend muttered something.

"An essay on the properties of porcupine quills, due tomorrow, at a minimum of a foot and a half."

* * *

_Dearest Mother, _

_I know you haven't sent me a letter yet, and it hasn't been long since my last one, but I simply must tell you about the flying lesson. _

_Madame Hooch is very strict, but she knows what she's doing. She had us all stand beside the school brooms, and shout "Up!". I didn't even have to say anything. I simply put my hand over it and the broom collided with my hand. _

_To start, we were only supposed to hover over the ground, but Neville Longbottom's broom flew him nearly to the top of the school, and he fell. While Madame Hooch took him to the hospital wing, my darling idiot of a brother decided to disobey the rules and he started flying, tossing around Neville's Remembrall, which he'd gotten that morning from his Gran. _

_Famous Harry Potter went to be a hero, and ended up pulling a dive so steep I thought he was going to plow into the ground. It was better than the dive I saw Draco attempt over the summer, and the boy says he's never been on a broom!_

_Professor McGonagall looked down right furious as she dragged him away. Not only that, but he was talking with his friend, the youngest Weasley boy, later at supper and apparently he'd been made Seeker of the team! In his first year! _

_I'm downright disappointed that I can't try out. You've seen me practising with my Beater, Chaser and Seeker skills. Unfortunately, the only position that I'll get will be back up for all of those. _

_Of course, my twin decided it would be a wonderful idea to poke fun at Potter, and now they're going to have a duel. I won't go, because if Draco gets caught now doubt he'll have detention and I have an essay for Charms I need to finish. _

_Looking forward to a letter,_

_Lysandra S. Malfoy_

* * *

"I don't see what's so bad about being a Malfoy, Lizzie." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's things my parents have done, I suppose." The raven sighed, finishing her letter with a flourish. "I've been kept out of the loop for so many years, I'm not sure I want to try to understand it. It might have something to do with my ancestors, or my mother's side of the family. But I don't know. I've heard some whispers in the halls, about Malfoy's and Death Eaters, and I do love my parents. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose."

"Has your mother written back?" The bushy haired girl asked, eyeing the letter as the pureblood attached it to a school owl and let the bird out the nearest window.

"No, not yet. I'll ask Draco if they've been contacting him. My entire family, all the Malfoy's before me, have been in Slytherin. I feel as though I've disappointed my parents, and every relation, dead or alive."

"I'm sure it will pass over, and you'll get a letter from her soon."

"Thanks, Hermione. I'm going to bed." Lysandra waved as she trod up the stairs. Hermione shook her head, watching the pureblood go.

As a Muggle-born, the bushy-haired brunette didn't know what Lysandra was going through. She'd tried to explain it, but it just made Hermione more confused. The whole "purebloods are better" life Lysandra lived in did not suit her in the slightest. Hermione's opinion on the youngest Malfoy child, was that if at all possible, Lysandra was one of the nicest purebloods she knew. Granted, Hermione didn't know very many people, but still...

Had Lysandra been born into a different family, Hermione was sure that the lingering look of secrets hidden in her only friend's storm-grey eyes wouldn't be there. The sadness etched onto her face, the imprint of known regection, it would not be there. She would have parents that loved her, and wrote her letters, no matter what House she was in.

"I suppose I'll go to bed too." The bushy-haired witch packed up her things and trod up to her waiting bed.

Lysandra was already asleep, facing the wall, her fluffy white kitten curled atop her hip.

* * *

_Lysandra,_

_Your mother and I are both very disappointed in you. The Gryffindor House of all things!_

_It would be best not to send any more letters regarding your life at school until Narcissa calms herself. This cataclysm has not gone unnoticed and we are forming a letter to your Headmaster immediately for a re-Sorting. _

_You will maintain your grades to the highest standard, and get rid of the Mudblood girl. You are a Malfoy. _

_Do. Better._

_Should anything of interest happen, Draco will inform us. _

_Lucious A. Malfoy_


	3. Chapter 3

Lysandra's grey eyes watered as she stared at the letter in her hand.

"Lizzie?" Hermione's soft voice floated across the table. "Are you alright?"

"J-just fine. I forgot my Charms essay in the Common Room. I'll see you in Herbology." Lysandra hurried from the Great Hall, letter crumpling in her hand. She pushed past the crowd around Harry Potter and his redheaded sidekick.

The raven breezed past her brother and continued up the stairs to the Charms corridor.

She hadn't actually forgotten her essay, it was in the bag slung over her shoulder. The Malfoy girl simply hadn't wanted her only friend to see her cry.

* * *

Neville Longbottom, however, had, in fact, forgotten his Charms essay and he was currently running through the long corridors, trying to get to Herbology with the Hufflepuffs on time.

He'd run up all seven flights of stairs, managing to jump over the trick step and remember the password, run back down the stairs, and was now very red in the face.

"Forget something, Longbottom?"Draco's voice drawled from the top of the main stair. "You must have; you're as red as that Remembrall of yours."

Neville turned slowly, chubby cheeks brightening -if at all possible- while Crabbe and Goyle snickered.

"Were you dropped on your head as a baby?" Malfoy continued.

"Tripping over his big feet." Goyle grunted.

"Leave him alone, Draco!" The second Malfoy, Lysandra, rounded the corner, her tight black braid slapping against her black robes. The Gryffindor crest was displayed proudly on her breast, and her red and gold tie was knotted neatly at her neck. "Besides, you've got a free period. Surely, you'd enjoy doing something more than tormenting Longbottom."

"You know, actually, you're right. I do have an...activity I'd rather be doing than tormenting Longbottom." Draco's mouth twisted into a cold sneer. "I'd rather torment both of you. Shall I tell my friends how you used to wet the bed when you were little, Lizzie?"

"Only if I can, in return, tell my fellow house-mates the same thing. And if I remember correctly, you were wetting the bed far longer than I was."

"Shall I tell Slytherin how you use a teddy bear?"

"Shall I tell Gryffindor how you vomited all over mother's favourite rug during dinner with the Minister?"

"That was your fault." Draco pointed his wand at her. Lysandra's back straightened and she pulled out her own wand.

"Shall I?"

"No body will listen to you." Draco sneered, lowering his wand slightly. "You've got no friends. Even Mother and Father don't want anything to do with you anymore. Isn't that right, little sister?"

"Shut up, Draco. Just shut up." Lysandra's already slightly red eyes filled with tears.

"My itty bitty Gryffin-dork sissy has no fwends." Draco cooed.

"_I__llegibilus!_" The raven growled. The spell hit Draco between the eyes and he laughed, as nothing seemed to happen. "Leave Gryffindor alone!"

"If you like them so much," Draco shoved her down the stairs. Neville dropped his bag and rushed to catch her. It did nothing more than cushion her fall. "Then _stick _with them."

The clumsy Gryffindor at this time was pulling Lysandra up from the ground, his hand in her own.

"_Epoximise_."

Draco's curse hit them, and he hurried down the corridor, black robes whirling behind him as the two Gryffindors pulled themselves up off the floor...again.

Neville went for his back and Lysandra's grey eyes widened. "Longbottom...We're stuck together."

"What?" Neville stopped, halfway to his bag, only to find that the female Malfoy was being dragged behind him. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's my fault. Should we go to Madame Pomfrey?"

Neville chewed his lip, debating between getting this mess fixed and going to Herbology, which was by far is favourite class.

"On the other hand, no pun intended," The raven sighed, glaring at their clasped hands. "Professor Sprout probably knows the spell to release us. I'm afraid since she is closer, and I'd rather not have a detention, we'll go to Herbology. Hurry and get your bag, Longbottom."

"Call me Neville..." He murmured, scooping up his bag and hurrying with the girl towards the greenhouses. "I...I think that'll be alright, considering we're...stuck together."

"I'm Lysandra then, Neville." The raven's lips twitched as they burst into the Greenhouse. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were still talking amongst themselves, and Professor Sprout was standing at the front of the students, opening her mouth to start the class.

"Professor Sprout," Lysandra strode forward, tugging Neville along. Several of the Gryffindors and a few Hufflepuffs snickered at their clasped hands. "Do you have a moment?"

"Miss Malfoy, what can I do-Oh! You and Mister Longbottom are-" The professor's eyes widened in surprise.

"Stuck together. My...brother," She spat out the word, tears filling her eyes again as several depressing emotions fluttered across her face before completely vanishing. "Cast a Sticking Spell on us. Could you help us?"

The large bell announcing that class was starting boomed through the grounds. "I will after class, deary. You and Mister Longbottom will be partners today."

The duo took a seat to the side of the class, in front of the Gryffindors as Sprout started her lesson.

Lysandra was frowning at her parchment, as they were taking mostly notes.

"Is everything alright?" Neville murmured, copying the notes onto his own parchment easily, glancing between the black board and his pen.

"I've run across a problem." When the boy gave her a confused look, she sighed. "I'm right handed."

Neville flushed. "You can copy my notes when we get the spell removed."

"Thank you."

"Miss Malfoy, why aren't you taking notes?" Professor Sprout suddenly asked and the entire class fixed their eyes on her.

"I'm _right handed_." Lysandra huffed, and then lifted their hands. "And I'm having a little problem with my _right hand_ at the moment."

"Right...Um, sorry, dear."

Lysandra sighed.

* * *

Of all the people she could be stuck to, Neville Longbottom was probably the easiest. He was shy, introverted, but surprisingly helpful.

Professor Sprout hadn't been able to preform the counter-curse as she'd been summoned to Dumbledore's office...something about some fifth year Hufflepuff in the hospital wing.

They were sitting in Charms, with Neville carefully writing his notes.

"Miss Malfoy? Mister Malfoy?" Flitwick frowned from atop his pile of books as he observed the class finishing the notes on the board. "Is there a reason you're not writing notes."

"Neville and I are stuck together." Lysandra lifted their hands again, and Flitwick shook his head, flicking his wand at the pair. Their hands, one alabaster and one a pale peach, separated and both Gryffindors sighed in relief, stretching out their hands.

"And you, Mister Malfoy? Are you stuck to Mister Goyle?"

"No. I...sprained my finger in a door on the way here." Draco grumbled, his pointed face flushed, shooting daggers at his younger twin with his eyes.

"That's unfortunate. Go see Madame Pomfrey when the class is over."

* * *

"What was that all about?!" Hermione demanded, marching over to Neville and Lysandra who were seated at a table near the fire so she could copy his notes and do her homework.

"What was what?" Lysandra turned, watching as Harry and the Weasley boy hurried up to the boys' dorm. "Potter has a broom-shaped package?"

"No! With your brother!" Hermione shrieked. She'd drawn the attention of Seamus and Dean now and they hurried over. "And you! Being stuck to Neville!"

"Yeah! Tell!" Dean demanded, scraping a chair out and dropping his books on the table. Seamus followed right after him.

"What was the spell you cast on him?" Neville asked with an innocent look. "I've never heard it before."

"I_llegibilus._" Lysandra cast her eyes to the essay she'd been writing and nearly finished. "A spell to make the target illiterate. Draco couldn't read all day. He probably still can't. It should wear off in two days."

"Bloody 'ell!" Seamus grinned, his face still decorated with a fair amount of soot from some blown up spell or another. "That's brilliant! Let's go tell the Pavarti and Lavender!"

Dean nodded, leaving his books on the table as he hurried over to the two girls who were painting their toenails horrifying shades of pink and purple on the other side of the room. Hermione huffed, stomping up to the dorm.

Lysandra returned to her homework, scrawling another fourteen sentences onto the page before rolling up the parchment and tucking it into her bag.

"Night Neville."

"Night, Lysandra! See you in the morning!"

* * *

Time dragged by slowly for Lysandra, who hung out with Neville and Hermione most of the time. Seamus and Dean came by for help every so often.

Before anyone had realized, the students of Hogwarts had been there for two months.

Lysandra woke to the smell of baking pumpkin. It curled into her section of the girls' dorm room and Blizzard sneezed, wrinkling his nose.

Lysandra stroked the top of his head, and wrinkled her nose to match his expression. She'd never been fond of pumpkin...unless it was in a pie, but even then, that was if it was buried beneath mounds of whip cream.

The raven stumbled from her plush crimson bed and hurried to the showers. When she emerged, steam was floating past her feet and her damp black hair was pulled into a braid that coiled around the back of her head, save for the bangs that fell into her eyes.

Hermione was rousing as she strode past, searching for the robe that was hung on a stone that jutted from the wall.

"Morning, Hermione."

"Five more minutes..." The bushy haired brunette murmured, vanishing beneath the covers of her quilt.

Lysandra shook her head, snatching her wand from her beside table before pulling her robe on. Blizzard had curled on her pillow, but he stretched and yawned before following her out of the dorm.

Neville was seated at the table, his face pressed against his homework, snoring.

"Neville, wake up." She murmured, prodding his arm. Neville snorted, his bleary brown eyes fluttering open before he leapt up from his seat with a clatter and frantically waved his hands around as though batting away small flying bugs.

"Oh..." The brunette flushed. "It's just you, Lizzie."

"Breakfast." She murmured, waving her wand at him. The ink pressed into his cheek vanished and his clothing smoothed out, as did his hair.

"I'm just saying, Ron." Harry's voice drifted down the stairs. "That's what Muggles do!"

"What do Muggles do?" Neville asked, curiousity in his eyes as he glanced at Lysandra. Harry turned to them with a frown.

"They dress up in costumes and go door-to-door getting free candy. I was asking Ron if that's what happened here."

"I should think not. Hogwarts has a Halloween feast and sometimes a dance for the students in years Five to Seven." Hermione sneered, breezing past the boys on her way to the portrait. Her hands snatched up Lysandra and Neville's arms.

The pair found themselves being dragged out by a grumpy Hermione.

"Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Hermione?" Neville asked meekly, flinching as she fixed her know-it-all gaze on him.

"Not a morning person, remember, Neville." Lysandra muttered, slipping her arm out of Hermione's grip and freeing her friend as they sat in the Great Hall.

"Right. Forgot."

"You forget a lot of things, don't you, Longbottom. Like that Remembrall of yours."

"Shove off, Draco." Lysandra turned to glare at her twin. "Leave us alone."

"And you. You're not doing any better than the..." Draco sneered at Hermione, who'd shoved her nose in a book. "Mudblood nerd and Shlongbottom. At least I've got friends. Mother and Father said hello, you know."

"Really?" Hope gathered in Lysandra's eyes before Draco snickered.

"No. Why would they want to talk to the disgrace of the family?" He spun on his heel and returned to the Slytherin table.

"Lizzie?" Neville didn't like the look on the Malfoy girl's face. "Lizzie, you're scaring me."

"Hermione, give me your light-reading." Lizzie demanded, eyes hard.

"Which one?" The bookworm lifted her head with a smile, unaware of what had just happened.

"I want _Strange and Obscure Potions, Transfiguration: A Study of Beautifying Spells, _and _Charms for Witches._"

"Sure. Just make sure I have them back later." Hermione handed three fat-looking books to her fellow Gryffindor and returned to her novel.

Lysandra snatched up a breakfast sandwich and bolted out the door, the potions book already cracked open. She was still pouring over the three books, making notes on a piece of parchment in Charms before she tucked it away as Hermione tried to get a look.

Professor Flitwick had good news.

"I think you're ready to make things fly!" He squeaked. "We'll practice in pairs. Mister Malfoy with Mister Goyle, Mister Crabbe with Miss Parkinson, Mister Potter with Mister Finnigan, Miss Malfoy with Mister Thomas, Mister Weasley with Miss Granger-"

While Flitwick announced the pairs, those who had been called moved to their appropriate places, and Lysandra settled next to Dean. He flashed her a white toothed grin, moving his dark skinned hand over a spare piece of parchment.

The raven glanced at her fellow Gryffindor's doodle, and grinned. He was drawing the Professor in a pink tutu with a set of coloured pencils he'd obviously brought from the Muggle world.

Lysandra snatched his quill, adding a detailed tiara and a star to the end of his wand, along with a pair of wings. Dean watched in fascination as she passed the quill back.

"Nifty." He snickered as Lysandra tapped her wand to the paper. The little Flitwick blinked and then did a series of stretches before dancing off the paper and onto Seamus's.

He jumped and grinned, nudging Harry, who snickered as it danced across the pages of the Gryffindor students before doing a fantastic leap onto Pansy's paper.

She fought back giggles.

"Miss Parkinson, is there something you'd like to share with the class?" Flitwick waved his wand and Pansy's parchment floated towards him. By now, the drawing had picked up several new additions in the form of a poorly draw Hagrid, who was also dressed as a fairy princess and doing ballet, a snake with Snape's face, and McGonagall coloured in red and gold, seated on an enormous roaring lion, pointing a sword into the air.

Flitwick's bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise and he shook his head, stashing the paper into his podium. "Ten points from Slytherin."

"But Professor-!" Pansy protested.

"Fifteen."

Dean and Lysandra shared a subtle high-five as Pansy and the professor argued until Slytherin had lost thirty-five points and Crabbe slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Now," The Head of Ravenclaw House returned to his lesson. "Don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practising. Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the words properly is important too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself one the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Dean and Lysandra glanced at the feathers placed before them, and lifted their wands. "_Wingardium Leviosa._"

Their feathers didn't so much as twitch. Seamus set his on fire, and Ron was waving his arms around like a windmill, yelling.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

"You're saying it wrong." Hermione snapped. "It's Win-_gar_-dium Levi-_o-_sa, make the gar nice and long."

"You do it then. If you're so clever."

Hermione rolled up her sleeves and -at the same time as Lysandra- murmured, "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

Two pure white feathers floated into the air, and Hermione glanced over at the Malfoy girl, who was focused on her own feather in glee.

"Oh, well done!" Professer Flitwick cried, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger and Miss Malfoy have done it! Ten points each to Gryffindor!"

Dean clapped her on the back and tried again. His feather lifted off the desk too.

"Professor, I need a new feather!" Seamus threw his hand into the air.

"Class is over in two minutes, Mister Finnigan." The professor smiled. "I'll be sure to supply you with extra feathers tomorrow. Well done to you, Mister Thomas. Five points."

Dean grinned as the loud bell signalled the end of class. Lysandra snatched her stuff and pushed it into her bag. Dean looked at the white feather she'd been levitating and pushed it into her bun.

Lysandra jumped, whirling to look at him. Dean grinned, lifting his hands.

"I put your feather in your hair." Lysandra reached around her head and went to pull it out. "No! Keep it. Like...A war prize or something!"

"I will never understand boys." The raven muttered, rolling her eyes, but leaving the feather in.

"I'll never understand girls. We have History of Magic. Come on, Seamus!" Dean grinned at his friend. Seamus gave them a goofy grin.

"Wait, Lizzie!" The boys rushed after the Malfoy girl. "We'll walk with you to class."

"O-okay."

"Guys! Wait up!" Neville ran over and joined the group.

"Hi, Neville." Lysandra smiled as the entered the HoM classroom. Lysandra took one of the desks in the far back corner, pulling out the books she'd been reading earlier.

By the time the class was over, she was grinning almost evilly as she sprinted up to the Gryffindor tower.

At seven, when the Halloween feast started, she looked extremely smug with herself but wouldn't tell Dean, Seamus or Neville why.

They weren't left waiting long, about twenty minutes into the feast, Draco Malfoy burst to his feet, shrieking.

He was scarlet, his nearly-white blond hair a shimmering gold and it had managed to escape it's slicked back style, flying all around his face in a mane.

"Who did this!?" He bellowed, staring at the silent Great Hall with narrowed eyes. "Who-"

His body moved, and by Draco's expression, it wasn't him who was moving. The Malfoy boy strode straight to McGonagall, and his mouth opened.

Somehow music managed to escape as he began to sing, doing a very elegant version of ballet.

"You're my Honey-bunch, Sugarplum, Pumpy-umpy-umpkin, you're my Sweetie Pie, you're my Cuppycake, Gumdrop, Snoogums-Boogums, you're the Apple of my Eye,"Draco looked horrified, and the tables were roaring with laughter, including several teachers who were hiding it behind their hands.

McGonagall's lips were twitching as she fought from laughing.

"And I love you so and I want you to know, that I'll always be right here. And I love to sing sweet songs to you because you are so dear."

Draco finished with a flourishing bow, and twirled back to his spot at the table, where several of the Slytherins were rolling on the floor.

The Great Hall doors suddenly burst open and Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table and gasped.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons – Thought you ought to know." And the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor slumped to the floor.

There was an uproar and it took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Dumbledore's wand to quiet the hall.

"Prefects," he rumbled. "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

"Follow me!" Percy Weasley called. "Stick together, First Years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders. Stay close to me now. Make way, First Year coming through. Excuse me, I'm a Prefect!"

Dean, Seamus and Neville were by Lysandra's sides in an instant, following the lines of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws up the stairs.

"Is that why you looked so smug?" Dean asked, grinning.

"I didn't let in a troll." The raven sniffed.

"Naw." Seamus shook his head. "That thing Malfoy did before everything went arseways."

"I may or may not have had anything to do with it." The blinding smile she threw over her shoulder confirmed Dean and Seamus' theory.

"Wicked. How'd you do it?" Dean laughed.

"That's for me to know, and you not to find out."

"Guys," Neville spoke up and the looked at him. "Where's Harry and Ron?"

"I dunno."

Lysandra quirked an eyebrow at the shy boy. "Harry Potter is The Boy Who Lived, not The Boy Who Died. He'll be fine."

The girl climbed into the Common Room.

"Nice one, Fred and George!" Several of the Gryffindors called.

The Weasley twins, known for being pranking masters, shared looks. "It wasn't us, mate."

"Bloody brilliant though. Wonder who did it?"

Dean and Seamus shared looks, grinning before pointing their wands at Lysandra. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The raven shrieked in surprise, floating a good five feet off the ground. Dean and Seamus lowered her onto their shoulders, releasing the spell. They both grunted, and then Dean bellowed.

"Oi! Make way for the Pranking Queen!"

"Gryffindor royalty coming through!" Seamus laughed, strolling in sync with Dean to the most overstuffed chair in the Common Room.

The Weasley twins shared yet another look and quirked eyebrows.

"You did it?" The one on the left asked. Lysandra smirked, curling her feet beneath her.

"I will neither deny nor admit that I did it." Her smirk said otherwise.

"Gred, I think we've been challenged."

"Why, Forge, I do believe you're right. Prepare for war, Princess!" The Weasley twins immediately strode away, whispering to each other.

"This isn't going to be good." Neville whispered. Lysandra flashed him one of her blinding smiles.

"Nonsense. There's only two of them. There's two of us." She snorted.

"I'm not very good at pranking, Lizzie." Neville muttered, sinking into the chair opposite her. Dean and Seamus took up spots on her arm rest.

"There's four of us, you mean." Dean snickered, punching her shoulder.

"You're going to help me?"

"Duh!" Seamus grinned. "It'll be fun. And you'll need our help. Neville can stand watch, and the three of us will set up our pranks."

"Alright, deal." She shook hands with the pair.

"We'll be Her Highness's loyal knights." Dean laughed, playing up the pranking royalty joke. "And Neville can be-"

"Neville will be my adviser."

"Tally hoe!" Seamus laughed.

* * *

The Common Room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been set up. Hermione, however, was waiting for Ron and Harry by the door, alone. There was a very embarrassing pause.

Then, none of the looking ay each other, they all said "Thanks", and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became a friend. There are some things you can't share without liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Seamus and Dean were dozing off at one of the tables in the Common Room when a small pile of books dropped in front of them.

Neville fell off his chair, as he actually had been napping on his homework, with a startled yelp.

The positively wicked grin of their only female friend hovered over the books, and Dean titled his head to get a look at the titles.

"_'Saucy Tricks for the Tricky Sort', 'Quidditch Through the Ages', 'Do It Yourself Broom-Care', 'Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1', _and _'Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed'. _Lizzie, what are these for?"

Lysandra smirked, gracefully seating herself in the chair across from him. "Why, Sir Dean, this is the beginning of our prank."

"Wait!" Seamus bolted upright. "We're starting that now?! I thought the Weasley twins were going to get us first."

"All the more reason to pull the first prank," She shrugged, pulling out several pieces of parchment. "They'll be busy for the next three days with Quidditch cramming, what with the game on Saturday. That gives us the opportunity to plan and execute our prank."

"What exactly are we doing?" Dean frowned, pushing away his homework.

"Remember the conversation we had this morning? How you said your mother was a...back-seat driver and had to explain to us what exactly that was?"

Dean nodded.

"We're going to charm the Weasley twins' brooms to be back-seat drivers."

Seamus and Neville shared looks and Dean looked surprise before the two more outgoing boys grinned.

"Brilliant!" Lysandra flushed slightly, tugging on the end of her braid.

* * *

Two days later dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was filled with the smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've gotta eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast." Wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry," Seamus turned to the Gryffindor. "Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus." Harry muttered as Seamus piled ketchup on his sausages.

Lysandra dropped next to the Irish boy, smirking slightly.

Seamus glanced around and then leaned forward, whispering quietly. The three of them, including Dean who sat across from Seamus, glanced farther down the table at the Weasley twins, looking quite pleased.

"Let's go get good seats. I wanna sit near Lee Jordan." Lysandra grabbed several sausages, and wrapped them in a napkin as Neville appeared, looking flushed as usual. "We'll meet you out in the stands, Neville."

"Right! I'll come up with Hermione and Ron...if that's okay with them." He muttered as the three students left.

By eleven o' clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats may have been raised in the air but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Dean, Seamus and Neville up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they'd painted a large banner on one of the seats Ron's rat had ruined. Dean and Lysandra had draw a large realistic Gryffindor lion beneath 'Potter for President', which was what the sign read. Hermione had done a tricky charm to make the words change colour and Lysandra had enchanted the lion to move and roar every time Gryffindor scored.

"Do you think they'll notice?" Neville asked Lysandra with nervous eyes.

She gave him a look, crossing her arms. All six of the First Years were dressed in their thicker cloaks, hands covered with different coloured gloves and their gold and scarlet scarves were wrapped around their necks.

Both teams emerged from either side of the pitch, brooms in their hands. The crowd, split with the Gryffindors, most of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws against the Slytherins and the rest of the student body.

"Now, I want a nice clean game – all of you." Madame Hooch said, directing the statement towards the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint. He looked a bit like a troll.

Harry glanced up, and a smile crossed his face when he saw the banner.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Lysandra smirked, grey eyes fixed on the twins, who were twirling their Beater Bats almost lazily.

Fifteen brooms, seven for each team and Madame Hooch, rose up high in the air, signalling the beginning of the game. They were off.

Harry rose high above the swarm of players, and Lee Jordan opened his mouth.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too!"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry Professor."

"When does it start?" Dean leaned over. Lysandra lifted one hand with her fingers extended. He nodded.

"And she's really belting along up there – a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet – a good find of Oliver Wood's – last year only a reserve. Back to Johnson and no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle – Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes. Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sco- no! Stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor takes the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor out there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field an – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards th goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

During this time, the Weasley twins had gotten odd looks on their faces, and Lysandra smirked.

* * *

"No, you stupid Weasley!" A high squeaky voice yelled it's displeasure. "Your other left! You never listen to me!"

"No! No! No! Slow down!" George went zipping past him, confusion on his face as he went flying for a Bludger.

Fred was also confused, until his eyes landed on the Princess's group, three of which looked smug. He pointed between them with two fingers in the '_I'm-watching-you_' gesture.

The raven haired Malfoy gave him an '_I-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-about_' look, and pointedly looked at the Bludger that went pelting towards Harry Potter.

Fred zipped closer, smashed the Bludger away, and turned to grin at the Boy-Who-Lived. "All right there, Harry?"

"Slytherin in possession, Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"

Harry and the Slytherin Seeker barrelled towards the flash of gold as Gryffindor took possession of the Quaffle.

Lysandra's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as Marcus Flint rammed into the Potter boy.

"_Foul_!" the Gryffindor side screamed, beating their feet against the stands.

Madame Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. However in the confusion, the Golden Snitch had vanished.

"Send him off, ref! Red card!" Dean yelled from beside her.

"This isn't football, Dean." Ron Weasley snorted. "And you can't send someone off in Quidditch – what's a red card?"

Hagrid, the gameskeeper, spoke up, obviously on Dean's side. "They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

"Who let the oaf up?" The Malfoy girl muttered into her scarf. "And what is football?"

Dean caught the second question, and turned, horrified. "You don't know what football is?"

"No. I'm a pureblood Malfoy."

"Oh. Right..." Dean bit his lip. "It's a Muggle sport. I played in in elementary school, back before I knew my dad was a wizard. I've got no proof though. I'm pretty sure he was. Anyway, I'll teach you how to play on the weekend. I brought the ball."

"Right." Lysandra nodded, biting her lip. She wasn't supposed to like Mudbloods or half-bloods...And Seamus and Dean fell in both those categories. The only person...friend...that Lysandra could possibly tell her family about was Neville Longbottom, but he was labelled as a blood-traitor...and her aunt had tortured his parents into _vegetables_.

"All right, all right!" Lee Jordan huffed. "Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to _anyone, _I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continued playing. Gryffindor is still in possession. No, a Bludger takes it out of Johnson's hands. Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherin score – oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid pressed his binoculars to his beady eyes. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom...but he can't have..."

People all over the stadium were pointing at Harry now, whispering among themselves. His broom had started roll over and over and over and over and over and over...Then the whole crowd gasped.

Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. Hw was now dangling from it, a good fifty feet above the ground, holding onto the broom with one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered, clinging to Lysandra's arm. On her other side, Neville was hiding his face in his hands, peeking through every so often before he latched onto Hagrid with a wail.

"Can't have." Hagrid's voice was shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

Seamus and Dean turned to Lizzie with terrified looks.

"I didn't interfere with the Weasleys' brooms. I Charmed them to be annoying back seat drivers. That has nothing to do with it flying. And I didn't use Dark magic."

"Leave it to me." Hermione stood and made her way through the crowds towards the teachers area.

Lysandra turned back to the frozen game. Marcus Flint scored five times without anyone noticing.

Harry's broom stopped shaking and he clambered back onto it, pale faced, as he raced towards the ground.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron shouted.

Harry suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth, and tumbled to the grass, landing on all fours. He gagged, coughed and spat something into his hand before raising it.

"I've got the Snitch!" Tiny silver wings, though damp, fluttered to escape his grasp.

"_AND MISTER HARRY POTTER HAS GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY POINTS TO SIXTY!_" Lee roared along with the Gryffindor supporters. Ron and Hermione had long buggered off and Lysandra was politely clapping her satisfaction. Draco was pouting from across the pitch and she was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but resisted.

* * *

"What exactly did you charm the brooms to say?" Seamus asked, striding beside the Malfoy girl towards the Fat Lady. "Sonantis leonibus. Bloody brilliant ending, I must say. Making them shoot confetti and streamers. The lion roars were pretty good too."

"Thank you. The brooms would have shot out green and silver if the Slytherins had won." She smirked.

"It was brilliant." Neville was smiling as he clambered through the portrait. He nearly tripped and fell onto his face, but Dean caught the back of his robes.

Noise smashed into their ears from the Common Room as the other three entered. The password certainly fit the party that had erupted in the short time between winning and actually entering the Common Room.

Noisy lions indeed. Lysandra shook her head, heading towards her room.

"Where are you going?" Neville shrieked, hurrying after her. "To get my homework. Stay here."

* * *

Fred and George entered the Common Room with plates of food floating along behind them, looking quite please despite the gold and scarlet sparkles that were stuck to their skin, the streamers wrapped around their shoulders and the confetti in their ginger hair.

"There you are!" Oliver huffed, marching over. "Harry didn't back to the Common Room, and we have to go over – Are those custard tarts?"

"Have a few, Olly old chap." Fred pushed several into the Captain's hands before continuing to the free tables. "Georgie, do you see the Princess and her court?"

George let the plates and platters land on the table, glancing around. There was a smaller round table over in the corner, with one of the immensely plush chairs dragged to face the room and several smaller chairs surrounding the bigger one.

"On her throne." George nodded to the smug looking Malfoy girl, who was looking at them with a quill in her hand before turning her attention to Dean Thomas.

"Shall we?"

"Of course." Fred lifted a platter by hand, and carried it over, placing it in the center of their table. "Hello, kiddies!"

"Weasleys." Malfoy nodded, fluidly writing a sentence at the end of the essay before her before giving them her full attention. "How can I assist you? Directions towards the shower perhaps?"

"Gred, I don't think I need a shower, do I?" Fred gasped, sniffing under his sweat soaked armpits.

"Not at all, Forge!" George snickered, playing with his wand.

"Your...display was simple." Fred fixed his blue eyes on the quartet. "Let the big boys show you how it's done, yeah?"

The twins turned around and vanished into the crowd.

"Lizzie...You've got that face again." Neville whimpered.

"You'll see. I think the confetti and sparkles add a certain...flair to the twins, don't you?" Lysandra smirked at Seamus, who snickered.

"What did you two do?" Dean crossed his arms.

"Sir Dean!" Lysandra gasped, mock outrage on her face. "You're accusing me of putting a sticking spell on the sparkles and confetti!? How rude."

"You didn't." Neville's eyes widened.

"We did." Seamus laughed, showing the boys his fingers, which had glitter on them still.

* * *

Several weeks passed and nothing had happened to the Court yet, save for large amounts of homework, and Draco's tormenting of his sister and the Golden Trio.

The weather had gotten colder and December had just started; already students were speaking of their plans for the holidays.

It was three in the afternoon at the moment, and the sun was luckily, shining. Madame Hooch had informed the class that they were having a race around the Quidditch pitch today, to see who had the best control of their broom while she fired harmless spells at the pair of fliers who were racing.

She'd pair the Malfoy twins together, set to go just after Harry and Blaise Zabini.

Lysandra had received a letter from her mother, explaining that she wasn't made, just shocked and she still loved her little baby doll. That was the extent of the letter.

"Malfoys." Hooch barked as Blaise finished the lap around the pitch. For fairness' sake, Harry Potter hadn't been able to use his Nimbus, but he's still beat the Slytherin boy.

Harry trotted forward and handed the broom to the Malfoy girl, who shed her cloak and handed it to Seamus. She'd worn a pair of shorts under her uniform skirt and she mounted the broom with ease, followed seconds later by Draco on the broom on the other side. He'd handed his cloak to Pansy, who was nuzzling it like it was Draco himself.

"No foul play." She ordered the glaring siblings and lifted her wand. "Go."

The twins shot off like bullets, weaving between the spells Hooch was casting towards them. They were neck and neck, with their respective Houses cheering loudly for the other until the final stretch.

Lysandra pressed herself against her broom and shot forward, her long black braid snapping behind her. Draco scowled.

Madame Hooch pointed her wand towards the twins and murmured a spell that had water blasting from her wand. Lysandra lifted an eyebrow, rolled so she was beneath it and slowed to a halt just over the marked finish line to watch her brother get soaked.

Draco yelped as he tumbled off the broom and Lysandra preened under the cheers of her House, before glancing at her brother.

Crabbe and Goyle were helping him up and Madame Hooch was drying him off with a spell but his look spelled something for her.

She was dead.

* * *

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins, who still hadn't done anything to the Court, were punished for bouncing snowballs off the back of Quirrell's turban.

The few owls that had manged to battle their way to the school landed in the Great Hall and Lysandra snatched the letter of the Malfoy's eagle owl, eager for news of Christmas plans.

However, her face fell as her eyes flew across the letter and her grey orbs filled with tears.

_Lysandra, _

_While our darling Draco will be coming home for Christmas break, Lucious and I have decided it would be best for you to stay at Hogwarts. _

_Pleasant Holidays, _

_Narcissa Malfoy_

There was no darling Lysandra, no your father. It was simply Lysandra and Lucious. And Lizzie didn't like it.

"Lizzie?" Neville placed a hand on her arm and the Malfoy girl struggled to hold back tears. Seamus wormed the the letter from her loose fingers. He scowled as he read the letter before showing Dean. "Lizzie, it's okay."

She was shaking and her vision was blurry.

Her parents didn't want her home for Christmas.

And she wasn't angry with them...she was ashamed.

* * *

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor Common Room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class. "For all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking at Harry as he spoke, before his eyes flicked past the Boy-Who-Lived to the second Malfoy. The blond's mouth twisted up in a cold smirk as Crabbe and Goyle chuckled.

Harry ignored the Malfoy boy, but Lysandra paled and bit her lip.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, need any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Draco's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose – that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dove at the blond just as Snape came up the stairs.

"_WEASLEY_!"

The redhead let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape." Hagrid poked his head out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid." said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed past the tree roughly, scattering needles everywhere. Two seconds later, the second Malfoy flew past, books clutched to her chest.

"Do you think she's okay?" Ron asked, frowning. "Anyway, I'm going to get him one day."

"Lizzie, wait up!" Seamus, Dean and Neville ran past after the raven, their bags smashing against their legs.

* * *

Lysandra ran up the stairs to her dorm room and threw herself onto the plush bed, narrowly avoiding Blizzard.

He padded forward, nudging her nose before dragging his rough tongue over the tears on her cheeks, purring loudly.

Lysandra had always had a rough time with concealing her emotions, and she was rather emotional. She was good at hiding things like anger, or happiness for example, but the second you got unplugged the stopper on her blue emotions, marble-faced Lysandra was gone and in it's place was eleven year old Lizzie Malfoy.

And she didn't like it. Not one bit.

* * *

The Gryffindor Common Room was far emptier than usual, seeing as how only the Weasley boys, of which there were four, and Harry were there...and her.

She had the entire girl's dorm to herself and had satisfied her curiosity about the other rooms. They were nothing special, and very much the same as the her dorm room, save for posters of the Weird Sisters or other wizard bands. There were a few Muggle pictures of some famous guy and one of the Seventh Year girls had a picture of Gildroy Lockhart on her bedside table.

It was late afternoon when Lysandra emerged from the girl's dorm. She'd stayed up late the night before finishing up the over holidays homework.

The smell of warm scones floated up the stairs and Lysandra bit her lip before sliding down the banister. She landed slightly, looking around.

The two good arm chairs had been taken by Ron and Harry, but her 'throne', as the twins dubbed it, had been left to it's own devices. It was still by the window, in a dark corner of the Common Room, by the table she, Seamus, Dean and Neville had claimed.

"Careful, Ron!" Harry yelped, catching the marshmallow that was hanging from his best friend's toasting fork. "And it's your go."

He was looking at the wizard's chess board between the two.

"Queen to E-five." Ron mumbled through his sticky treat. Lysandra shook her head and vanished out the portrait.

Her loose bangs fell into her bangs and Lizzie huffed hurried towards the Great Hall. She was reaching for the door when a Hufflepuff appeared.

"I wouldn't do that. They wanna keep it closed during the day, apparently they're having a meeting. Come with me, I'll show you too the kitchens."

"Thanks..." Lysandra trailed off.

"Cedric Diggory." He grinned. "I'm a Fourth Year."

He led her down the steps towards the Hufflepuff dorms and stopped at a painting of a bowl of fruit.

"Just tickle the pear. The house elves will be more than happy to fix up anything you want." He waved before vanishing up the stairs.

Lysandra frowned, but tickled the pear. It wiggled and formed into a door knob.

"A guest! A guest! Welcome to the kitchen, miss! I is Ipsy! What can we be getting for you?"

"Some breakfast, please." Lysandra fiddled with her fingers. A swarm of house elves pushed her towards one of the tables and not five minutes later set a plate filled with hashbrowns, eggs, sausages, and a glass of milk before her. "Thank you!"

"Anything for miss..."

"Malfoy." She murmured quietly.

"Anything for Miss Malfoy! Ipsy is happy to serve you!" The bubbly little elf skipped towards it's comrades.

* * *

It was a while before Lysandra returned to the Common Room; she'd visited the library and had played a game of wizard's chess with Professor McGonagall, who'd found her doodling pictures in the hallway.

Their game had last for a good hour and a half before McGonagall annihilated her. Lysandra had asked several questions about Transfiguration for a while, before it was time for dinner and she'd returned to the Common Room just as the Weasleys and Harry were coming out.

"Argenti tintinnabulis." She murmured as the Weasley clan plus one strode past laughing. The Fat Lady gave her a sympathetic smile as she swung forward.

Lysandra hurried up to her dorm room, and threw on a finely made sweater in emerald green with silver buttons before she made her way down for dinner.

She sat at the end of the table, away from the Gryffindors, picking at her dinner until she wasn't full. She was aware of the gaze Snape had on her, but she didn't dare turn around to look at her Godfather.

Draco was always _his_ favourite too.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Harry and Lysandra both went to bed not expecting any presents.

When she woke late that morning, to the excited shouts from down the stairs, she was surprised to see a small pile beside her bed. It was small, not that it mattered, but she'd actually gotten presents.

She studied them.

There were two extremely well wrapped presents in silver paper and tied with a green ribbons, a messily wrapped box in red with Christmas trees, another neatly wrapped one in brown paper, and the last one was scarlet paper painted with gold lions and stars that moved. There was a book propped to the side with a note on the front, too.

_'Enjoy. - McGonagall_' was written on the front.

Blizzard purred beside her before leaping off the bed to nose the presents and give her an expectant look.

Lysandra gave a soft smile before lowering to the pile.

The first ones unwrapped were the two from her...family. Her mother had sent a silver locket with the Malfoy crest engraved on it and set with emeralds. Her father and brother had sent her a matching braclet; a silver snake that coiled itself around her wrist. It's tongue was engraved with '_Malfoy_'.

Draco had left a snarky comment in the note, saying how a lowly Gryffindor shouldn't even be a Malfoy.

Neville's present, the one wrapped in brown paper, was a cosmetic spell-book titled '_Every Beautifying Spell a Witch Could Need'. _He also sent her a It's-A-Secret Bookmark, and the password to open the book it was placed in was '_A__ureos Gryphem'. _

An It's-A-Secret Bookmark was charmed to be placed in the book of your choice, and to reopen it, one would have to give the password.

Seamus' large messy present was a box filled with candy. Muggle candy if Lysandra was correct. Bubbaloo Liquid Filled Bubble, in an assorted box of sixty, Milk Chocolate Dove bars, in a box of eighteen, Sweettarts, Tootsie's Carmel Apple pops, in a box of forty-eight, and War Heads, in a box of twelve.

Weird names, if you asked the pureblood.

Dean's small present was a set of markers that smelled like different fruits, and a her own set of pencil crayons.

There was another present, hidden beneath the others and wrapped in black paper, and tied with a red ribbon.

_From S. Snape._

Lysandra's blinked at the small package. She hadn't expected a present from her godfather.

He'd never sent her one before. The raven carefully open the present. There was another note inside, and a golden chain and key set with diamonds.

_Lysandra, _

_However unfortunate your Sorting may have been, I felt it necessary to send you this. _

_This key, and the thing it opens, has been passed through the Prince family females for generations. As I am the only remaining Prince, it was entrusted to me when my mother died. _

_However, as I have no children, I thought it best to pass it down to you. Take care of it. _

_S. S._

She frowned but put both necklaces on, along with the bracelet.

As it was the holidays, and school robes weren't required, Lysandra dressed in an over-large white sweater with a snitch on the front, a pair of red pants, and she pulled her hair into pigtails, tied with red ribbons before heading downstairs in her socks.

Harry and the Weasley clan were seated downstairs, playing various games. It seemed as though the Weasley twins were teaching Harry to play Exploding Snap, while Percy and Ron played a game of wizard's chess.

Lysandra paused at the bottom of the stairs before heading over to the over-stuffed chair she usually claimed with the Transfiguration book McGonagall had sent her.

She so engrossed in the book that she didn't notice a parcel being placed in front of her. It was a good two hours before she noticed it.

Blinking her grey eyes in confusion, she tugged at the ribbon holding it closed. As the paper fell away, a glittering cloud of red, green and gold sparkles exploded outward with a large puff of silver smoke. She coughed and waved a hand in front of her face.

Laughter exploded from the twins and they fell off their chair, closely followed by their younger brother.

"What did you do?" Lysandra asked, frowning as she examined her hands. They didn't look as though anything had happened, save for some sparkles she was pretty sure had a sticking charm on them.

Harry was laughing, but lifted his hands to his head. "Antlers!"

Lysandra scowled and lifted her hands to the top of her head. She did, in fact, have a pair of antlers on her head. She scowled and went to tug a pigtail so she didn't hurt the twins.

Only, she didn't have pigtails. They were gone, and her hair had obviously been Transfigured into the antlers. So now she was stuck with a short bob. The ribbons on her pigtails were tied around the base of her new antlers.

Lysandra gathered up her book and stomped up to her dorm.

* * *

The raven stayed in her room the rest of the day, searching through the Transfiguration book the Head of Gryffindor House had sent to her for a counter spell.

She couldn't find anything.

And not only did the twins give her a delicate pair of reindeer antlers, they'd changed her outfit. Her baggy white sweater and red jeans had been Transfigured into a red dress with white fake fur around her neck, the sleeves, and the hem of the knee-length skirt. Her socks had remained the same.

Stuck as she was, Lysandra made her way down to dinner.

The tables held a hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of butter peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.

Lizzie pulled her cracker with Percy Weasley, who was more than happy to help her re-Transfigure her antlers back into hair. The cracker popped with several gold and green fireworks and a golden tiara covered in diamonds fell out, along with two Chocolate Frogs.

At the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings, cake, and pies followed turkey.

* * *

The next day Lysandra was greeted by an empty Common Room. A quick glance out the window told her that the Weasleys and Harry were having a snowball fight. Again.

She shook her head and helped herself to the leftover breakfast on the table closest to the fire.

She took another glance out the window before cracking open the book Neville had given her and trying one of the Caramel Apple pops Seamus had sent.

The group of redheads-plus-one came in later, out of breath and soaking wet. Lysandra barely glanced up from the Transfiguration book in her hands as she unwrapped another chocolate bar and snapped a piece off.

"Pity about that one." Percy shook his head as he seated himself by the fire.

"What do you mean?" George blinked, flopping to the floor with a wet thunk.

"She wasn't allowed home for Christmas. The Malfoys demanded she stay here."

"Did they really?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at the only other raven in the tower. She pointing her wand at a piece of parchment, murmuring something under her breath. The parchment wiggled and folded in on itself, before it fluttered tiny wings and took off in all it's dragon-like glory. The Malfoy girl giggled.

"How'd you know?" Ron snorted, peeling off soaked gloves.

"I...ah, overheard Finnigan and Thomas speaking about it at breakfast before holidays." Percy muttered, lifting himself from his seat and carrying up the stairs.

He stopped briefly in front of the Malfoy girl, said something that made her smile, and then hurried up the stairs.

"You think its true?" Ron asked Harry as his twin brothers dried themselves off with their wands and started a game of Exploding Snap.

"I dunno. Should we ask?"

"Do we _want_ to get involved with the Malfoys?" Ron retorted.

"He picks on her too." Harry pointed out.

"I don't care. Better her than us."

"I...I guess."

* * *

**Without this Author's Note, this chapter is 5,614 words. **

**Now, anyone who has prank ideas, leave them below or PM them to me. Thank you to everyone who's favourited/followed/reviewed.**


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